Vanilla
by El loopy
Summary: Ella and Lucifer stop for some ice cream on the way home. Set post 3x6 'Vegas with some Radish'. Oneshot.


Vanilla

"Stop!"

Lucifer slammed his foot on the brake, acting on instinct. The car skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. Heart drumming his in chest, Lucifer looked around frantically for whatever disaster had caused such an ear splitting, desperate yell from his companion. On seeing no immediate danger, his eyes fell on the slight forensic scientist next to him. Ella was staring out of her window, nose practically pressed to the glass.

"What, Miss Lopez, provoked you to _such_ a reaction?" He was irritated, and it bled through into his voice. Ella turned her head to look at him, eyes dreamy and a grin on her face.

"Ice cream."

"What?" Not the answer he'd been expecting. She pointed out the side of the windscreen to a noticeboard advertising a diner a little way off up the road.

"I remember this place. They do the _best_ ice cream."

"Is that where you spent your winnings from the casino?" he asked with a teasing grin and she lost the smile for a moment to glare.

"We're out of Vegas, we're not talking about it." Lucifer held his palms up in mock surrender and she turned back to the window. "But yes, as it happens." He felt a small thrill of triumph. "I mean, you're twenty-one and got money in your pocket and it's the only ice cream for miles. Who wouldn't?"

"Who wouldn't indeed," Lucifer echoed. He was enjoying learning more about his unwanted road trip buddy. "I take it you want to go there now?"

Ella gave a slow, far away nod and Lucifer sighed. "Fine." He still had time to get back before it got too late.

Ella blinked and looked around properly as though just waking up.

"Why are we stopped in the middle of the road?"

* * *

As with most things, Ella Lopez had been over enthusiastic about the quality of the ice cream. It wasn't the _best_ he'd ever tasted…but it was up there. Perhaps, for her, she didn't just taste the chocolate or strawberry, or whatever ridiculous combination she currently had in front of her. Perhaps her ice cream also tasted like success and freedom, like it had the first time she'd had it here.

How she could taste anything at all with such a riot of flavoured scoops was beyond him.

"Stop judging me," she said it without malice as she dipped her spoon back into the bowl, "this is your doing, Buddy."

He knew it was. She'd been so excitable and indecisive at the counter that he'd offered to just buy her what she wanted, giving her free choice. He'd muttered it grudgingly, "Otherwise we'll be here all day." She'd naturally refused until he added, "Please. Consider it a thank you for the help with my ex-wife."

She'd needed no further prompting and beamed at him before ordering one of everything. As much as he wanted to pretend he'd done it for other reasons, Lucifer wondered how much motivation was behind just seeing her smile…like that…at him. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that Miss Lopez was unique and she needed to be preserved, protected and allowed to flourish. The thought of her losing her Ella-ness; that positive, big-hearted, scrappy, wonder was distressing.

"I'm surprised at your choice."

Her voice brought him back to the present. She was brandishing her spoon at his bowl.

"I didn't think you, of all people, would be so…vanilla."

His eyes darted from his bowl of plain ice cream to the mischievous sparkle of his companion. She had indeed intended the comment. Lucifer gave a devilish smirk.

"Well, well, Miss Lopez. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He dipped his spoon in the bowl and sensuously ate a mouthful. "If you want to play this game with me, I'd better warn you, I take no prisoners…well…not unless they want to be."

He grinned so alluringly that Ella held up her hands in mock surrender.

"All right, all right. I take it back. No need to get competitive, we're just eating ice cream."

She swirled her spoon in the bowl and licked it clean. Lucifer stared. He didn't think she was being deliberately coy anymore, but that just made her all the more entrancing.

"So why vanilla?"

He mentally wrenched himself off the path he was going down.

"Why vanilla?" he crooned, "Because Miss Lopez, the easiest way to judge the quality of something is to take it straight, and you said this was the _b_ est ice cream." There was a challenge issued in his voice, but she didn't rise to it, so he continued. "Other colours and flavours can be added to detract from the quality or mask an inferior produce."

"Or if they just think it might be considered inferior?" There was an enquiring note to her voice and he gave a pointed response.

"Precisely."

Her next words came like a blow.

"So, like what you do then." It wasn't a question and she wasn't looking at him like bubbly, positive Ella anymore. There was a sharpness in the way she stared him down across the table, ice cream bowl empty.

"What?" He knew what, but the shock was paralysing.

"You know," she twirled her hands. "The suits. The partying. The girls. The drugs. That's not the real _you_." She drew out the 'you' with attitude.

"Isn't it?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice but she either didn't notice or ignored it.

"Nope."

"Are you suggesting, Miss Lopez, that I am an inferior product?"

Ella met his blazing eyes with cool, steady ones. "No." She leaned back in the booth. "You just think that you are." She let it settle for a moment before continuing. "The Lucifer I saw today drove down to Las Vegas to help his ex-wife, even though that it cost him time with his partner, all because he cared. That kind of person doesn't need the lights, the noise, the flavours, or the colours. Don't get me wrong," she held up a hand, "they came in real handy today, but they are not who you are."

Lucifer didn't say a word for several moments, as a whole range of emotions warred inside him.

"I think, Miss Lopez," he paused and re-gained control. Anger was his primary response to confused emotions. That and running away. He opted for the latter. "I think I need to buy you more ice cream." He got to his feet and she smiled at him, not quite a beam, but not objecting.

"Thanks. I'll just have vanilla."

Their eyes met again, hers with a challenge under the faux innocence. He clenched his jaw and walked away.

When he got back she didn't mention it again, but every bite she took of her ice cream seemed very pointed.

He was relieved when they crossed into LA and he could go find a potentially very cross detective.


End file.
